


His Most Beautiful Everything

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Blind!Haymitch, Character Study, F/M, Falling In Love, im gonna call it a character study, it's like a freaking exercise in descriptive writing, like that's the only word i have for it, this is poetic, yeah that sounds legit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Effie doesn't understand how Haymitch can think she's beautiful when he has no idea what she looks like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Most Beautiful Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an almost canon universe where Haymitch won his Games, but they cost him his eyesight.
> 
> -
> 
> "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" - Lana del Ray

He fell in love with her voice first – with the emotion in her words, the way he could tell when she was smiling with her lips and when she was smiling with her eyes just by the tightening around the edges of her sentences. He fell in love with the way she could go from a trembling wreck, words torn to shreds by the broken glass of loss and heartache in her throat, to a diplomat in barely a breath, broken words sewn back together and smothered with honey to make them sound sweeter.

He fell in love with the way she smelled, with the scent of pure Effie Trinket that was impossible to erase, no matter how much perfume or hairspray was piled on top. Occasionally, when he felt like torturing himself, when the world was blanketed with darkness and for once he was on the same level as everyone else, he imagined what she might look like. He tried to fit a face to the scent, to that light, earthy smell of flowers after rain, of earth filled with life, of colors faded by broken memory, but would come up frustratingly blank.

(It was nights like these, when he let himself get caught up in the past, that his cane would shake and he’d stumble through rooms that he’d memorized years ago, tripping on furniture that _hadn’t been there last night, damn it_. Nights he’d want to scream himself hoarse with frustration, nights that he’d ache for a drink. For color, for light, for _something_ , please…)

He fell in love with her feel, with the soft silk of her skin beneath his fingertips, with the way she’d brush fingers against the back of his hand as she walked beside him so he always knew exactly where she was. He fell in love with the way her hair pooled through his fingers, with the way she’d sit, silent and still as marble and let him carefully remove her wig after a long day, fingers delicate as glass and rough as sandpaper as they carefully slipped the millions of bobby pins from the wisps of her hair.

(He never asked and she never volunteered, but in the dark, private corners of his mind, he liked to imagine her blonde.)

He fell in love with her taste, with the heady way her lips melted beneath his, the burst of flavor, of sticky lip spread and _Effie_ as he licked his way into her mouth.  He fell in love with the way the skin of her shoulder tasted just different enough from the bit of skin inside her elbow to notice, with the way he could almost taste the sparks that lit up her skin as he mapped it out in his mind, plotting his own personal course around her body like a constellation on a star chart.

(Sometimes he tried to remember the stars, and was forced to admit to himself that he’d never spent enough time looking.)

He fell in love with her laugh, her touch, her kiss. He fell in love with a gasp against his collarbone, a murmur against his ear, a brush of fingers against his hairline, a dusting of lips against his cheek. He fell in love with flowers after rain, with her favorite shampoo, and that acrid, sweet hairspray. He fell in love with warmth, with sunshine, with “honestly, darling, _manners_ ”, with _home_.

He fell in love with her, and to him, she’d always be his most beautiful everything.

Even if she didn't understand why.


End file.
